


just call my name and I'll be there

by krisherdown



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie knows something is up with Stan.  Jo tries to help from France.  Or: the important pieces Stan was missing in his investigation in the fic <i>the sunbeam in your smile: or the mysterious case of the jumpy frenchman</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just call my name and I'll be there

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the sunbeam in your smile; or, the mysterious case of the jumpy frenchman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/961153) by [polkadot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkadot/pseuds/polkadot). 



> I've never tried to write a fic based off of another fic writer's world so I hope I did this justice. I just loved the world polkadot created and wanted to play in it some more. :) Title from song by Jackson Five.

_US Open_

_Sunday, September 1_

_Third round_

Jo says as a greeting, "You know you have to beat Milos. Don’t want him to get back in the top 10."

"That is a stupid reason," Richie says to the laptop image of Jo on an exercise bike as he inspects his racquets before dealing with a practice session. Seb wants him to try a different tension as it was supposed to be especially humid for tomorrow’s match. "Besides, if Stan loses to Berdych…"

"Ah, you broke the rule about looking around the draw."

"I mention Stan because I see him right now and he’s acting suspicious. I think he’s following me."

"Following you? He literally just got off the court after beating Baghdatis and…" Jo trailing off, focusing intently on the readings on the monitor of the bike but also smirking.

Richie frowns, then remembers that just because Jo isn’t looking at the laptop screen at the moment doesn’t mean Jo won’t call him out on the look. He can see too much sometimes. "Would you stop laughing at me about this?"

"I’m not laughing."

"This time."

Jo concedes that with a tilt of the head then a nod. "Maybe Stan thinks you’re still considering Ben’s offer."

"I was _never_ considering Ben’s offer. He’s all limbs. Even though every word out of his mouth seems to be laced with, at least, innuendo doesn’t mean _I_ want to think about him."

"Ben wasn’t the part of consideration. Stan is probably aggressive in bed…"

"We are not having this conversation."

"Why not? I can’t admit that I find Stan hot? That, if you’d stayed in denial and Ben didn’t hop on that, I would…"

Richie looks Stan’s way and wishes Jo would shut up so he didn’t have the source of this discussion only meters away. He can feel himself flush as he catches Stan glancing his way.

Jo catches on. "He’s still spying?"

"Yep."

"Then maybe I will go on and say that he has a nice ass and that tattoo on his arm enhances his appearance. Maybe I should get one. I’ll ask Gael."

"Please don’t."

* * * * *

_French Open_

_Saturday, June 1_

_Third round_

The words come out in a rush when Richie sees Jo late that night, courtesy of being called in to deal with Gael the day after his surprise five set loss to Robredo. "Paire’s just a smug jerk. Probably would be an exhibitionist if he thought he could do it without screwing up Stan’s career in the process." Richie sits on the armrest as Jo is currently taking up the entire couch end to end.

"Ben propositioned you?" Jo can’t help but laugh, then looks over at Gael sitting at his laptop to let him know, " _Now_ it’s official. You’re the only French player he’s yet to try."

Gael lets out a huff but that at least got a smile out of him. Richie isn’t sure Gael is even in mopey-over-a-loss mode any more even though smiling seemed to be a new thing for him. This could be a waste of time during a tournament as important as Roland Garros.

"Ben had his hands all over Stan at the time."

"You mean his touchy-feely self or… more than."

"Hand inside Stan’s shorts would qualify as ‘more than’… and Ben did that while talking to me _after_ I caught them."

Gael mutters, "Good work from the kid."

Jo nods along. "Impressive. Didn’t think Ben could snare him. Even though he’s obviously been hooked on Stan for months, I didn’t believe Stan would forgo common sense and give in."

Gael’s phone buzzes at that point. He glances down at the display and holds a finger up. "Gotta take this. Gilles needs me as a distraction so he can get enough sleep for his match against Roger tomorrow," and heads toward the bathroom.

Richie has arms crossed over his chest as he glares at Jo. "You called me here for _this_?"

"Aww, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be all repressed and dealing with Ben getting some. I also didn’t realize Gael wasn’t in a brooding mood. Texts don’t always convey emotion correctly." Jo moves his foot so it’s brushing against Richie’s leg. "Is the image so traumatic that you can’t deal with facing Stan on the court?"

"No."

"Just letting you know that, when the tournament is over for both of us, I want explicit details of _exactly_ what you saw."

"No, I’m not doing that." Richie stands up, glancing toward the bathroom, where Gael is likely engaging in something resembling phone sex with Gilles, then to Jo. "You two are obsessed with sex."

Jo shoots up, needing to stop Richie before he actually exits. "You don’t have to deny yourself what you really want. I get that you don’t want Ben or Stan but I bet you _do_ want what they have for yourself."

"That isn’t… I’m not having this discussion with you now."

"After one of us holds the trophy next weekend, right? Then I’ll get the dirty talk I’ve been craving from you for years."

"Of course."

* * * * *

_US Open_

_Sunday, September 1_

_Third round_

Richie reports back after a series of pretending not to watch Stan, then back to Jo, then back up and probably looking like some version of headbanging. "He’s going from looking up to texting. Judging by the smile on his face, probably Ben."

Jo says, "You can’t fault him for that."

"I don’t. Just… I think he’s taking notes about me."

"Maybe he actually _does_ have a fantasy about having the two of you."

"You wouldn’t want that to happen."

"You’re right. I’d rather be there and have _Ben_ watch but you _know_ he wouldn’t be that patient." Jo chuckles at the disgusted look from Richie. "Oh come on. This is your reward if you beat Milos."

"Hearing you talk about _their_ sex life is a _reward_? Not a good incentive."

"Be fair, Richou. You love when I talk about sex, even if it involves other people."

"Good night, Jo." Richie checking his watch to be sure it actually is that late where Jo is, then realizes it’s probably just after dinner.

"Seriously, beat Milos. I don’t exactly want you to come home yet."

* * * * *

_French Open_

_Monday, June 3_

_Fourth round_

"Hi Richie."

Richie is sitting on the bench next to his locker, knowing that Jo is leaning against it and staring down. "Don’t you have better things to do than hang around locker rooms to scare people on your day off? You know, like preparing for Federer?"

"Don’t you know that Gilles set it up and I’ll knock him out?" Jo grins knowingly. "Does that soundbite work?"

Richie shrugs at that. "I kind of have to focus on my own match."

"You kind of need to get out of your head once in a while and that’s why Riccardo allowed me here. Your practice session will be useless if your brain is on other matters."

"My coach is in on this plan?"

"Actually both him and Seb. Two-headed monster."

 "I’m not that bad." Richie pauses, then adds, "I’m not, right?"

"No, of course not," too quick an answer to be anything more than reflex. "Ben is in Stan’s hotel room, likely having provided an inappropriate distraction this morning. I’m not sure that’s exactly a winning formula." Jo raises his head upon hearing something hit against the entrance room. "There’s your preoccupied opponent. I’ll see you later?"

Richie nods along, barely able to hear as Jo offers encouragement to Stan; Jo sometimes being too nice for his own good. It doesn’t take long before Stan’s phone buzzes and he’s back to texting.

It’s probably because he’d been watching their exchange that Richie even noticed where Stan was walking. It wouldn’t be right to knock the opponent out with his locker, even if only inadvertently. "Hey!"

Stan says sheepishly, "Thanks. I really should watch where I’m going."

Richie glances over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Jo’s smirk at the scene. He frowns then looks at the source of the near collision. Figuring who was texting Stan makes him say anything that’ll make him not think about what Ben might be sending right now. "My cousin walked into a pool last month while texting her boyfriend."

* * * * *

_US Open_

_Monday, September 2_

_Fourth round_

Richie spots the text message of congratulations from Jo upon beating Raonic and replies, _mind if i dont set up laptop right now? look like i drowned._

The text is quick and immediate. _yeah i know. best drenchd look evr. am rescuing u._

It’s going to take a lot to recover physically from a match like this one… but he’s glad he has a reason _to_ recover for a match in two days. _will call u after shower. desperately needed._

_fair enough. try not to think of me in there._

Richie is thankful they’re not Skyping right now. He’d never live this blush down.

* * * * *

_French Open_

_Monday, June 3_

_Fourth round_

"Here’s my boy!" Mika bellows, loud enough to even get Rafael Nadal out of his zone. Nico looks on apologetically as Mika ensnares a helpless Richie in a bear hug. Richie cannot imagine this is the best of ideas, given he’d just gotten off the practice court.

"I thought _he_ ," Richie points to Nico, "was ‘your boy’," the words sounding completely clumsy coming from him.

Mika backs away, looking down at his fresh shirt looking less so. "Ew. Good point. Nico sweats a lot less. Maybe _your_ boyfriend doesn’t mind."

Richie looks toward Nico, hoping for a translation. Nico edges away from his doubles partner. Richie finally says, "I don’t have a boyfriend."

"Oh you are so kidding yourself if you can’t see the unequivocal sex invite. See, once I win something big in doubles, I can connect with that brain for life," Nico appearing fearful for _his_ life at that thought. "Ask Arnaud how good I know him. So this is why I can say with certainty anything about your current love life."

At least now Richie is sure that Mika wasn’t trying to claim that _he’s_ dating Arnaud. That’d be really weird come Davis Cup time. Better just to brush off whatever nonsense Mika believes as true. "Okay, yeah, sure. Whatever you say," Richie wanting to end this confusing conversation so he can resume his focus on today’s match. "Good luck."

* * * * *

_US Open_

_Tuesday, September 3_

_Fourth round_

"Sorry I didn’t call you back," Jo says hurriedly as a greeting. "I fell asleep soon after talking to you."

"That’s okay. I was kind of busy." Richie is in his hotel room, in the midst of getting dressed and really doesn’t have much time to talk right now. He throws a jacket on over his t-shirt. "Still am, as you’d imagine."

"It was only a few months, not years, since I was in your position so don’t need the reminder," but Jo is smiling as he says that, amused by Richie’s fingers fumbling in putting on his watch.

"Yeah, well," Richie looks down as if focused on the clasp but he’s trying not to bite his lip. "It’s been six years for me so maybe I _do_ need the reminder."

"You need to avenge my loss to Ferrer. That’s what a good boyfriend would do."

The watch successfully in place, Richie kids, "Oh, so that’s the game now? I’m supposed to beat anyone who’s beaten you lately?"

"Only those in majors… and except for Rafa and Novak because that would be asking too much. Though you can still beat one of them and we’ll call that a secret marriage proposal. So you have to beat David and, when I return to play, I have to make sure to beat Stan and Tomic."

* * * * *

_French Open_

_Tuesday, June 4_

_Quarterfinals_ 　

knock. knock. KNOCK. KNOCK. Then, Jo shouting, "I have better things to do this morning, so you know!"

Richie would rather stay under the blankets, having more than earned this fort. But damn him for having a weakness for countrymen who should be preparing to beat a vulnerable Greatest of All Time. He opts to take the blanket with him to get to the door, unlocking and barely opening the door before flopping back on the bed. He knows Jo is in the room and has shut the door but still can’t help but sound snappish. "You’re in. Go ahead."

"I haven’t had breakfast yet."

"Won’t that ruin your routine?" Richie doesn’t want to look at the clock to see if it’s a reasonable hour. He’s more than earned this mope; he can’t be as good as Gael about such losses.

"Not ruined if you’re with me. I distracted you successfully, now it’s your turn to distract me."

"In case you didn’t notice, I lost yesterday. I don’t know if you can call that a success story. You don’t need such bad karma near you."

Jo lets out a sigh, then moves away the blanket fort and sits on the bed to ruffle Richie’s hair. His voice soft and would-be-comforting-in-different-circumstances as he says, "I very much noticed. I also noticed you played incredibly well and Stan was basically even with you. But whatever." He shoots up from the bed and announces, "I needed to see you. Riccardo said you’re heading to Germany tomorrow morning so there’s a good chance I won’t see you for a few weeks if I don’t visit now. That means you must join me for breakfast. We need this date to happen."

Richie suddenly focuses in on what Mika said somewhere in the haze of yesterday. "Date?"

Jo doesn’t see anything wrong with the choice of word. "You’re wasting my time to begin with. Throw on a baseball cap and jacket. Let’s go!"

* * * * *

Jo tries not to look like a mother hen as Richie moves food around his plate with the fork but the questioning look does little to hide that thought. What he actually says out loud, however, is, "Don’t you get tired of doing days like this alone?"

Even though Richie knows the look of concern, he’s thrown by the words. "I don’t understand."

"I mean, and don’t get me wrong as I hate to pry, I’ve never seen you have that person in your life... and so do not say your mother accomplishes that because we know exactly how that conversation goes and it’s totally not the same. I presume you’ve had relationships, of course, but never that person."

"You can stop the pronoun game," Richie mutters. "Realized how dumb I sounded."

Jo gives a fleeting smile. "Well, what I could _guess_ and what I actually _know_ are two different things. Anyone specific?"

"Not really. Julien was basically a result of bronze medal afterglow but that fizzled." At least Richie takes a decent piece of the croissant, which makes Jo beam as if he’d accomplished a goal.

"That was actually my guess. Jule said something about recognizing that you have your eye on someone now based on his own experience. I so didn’t want to know if he was full of it, much less want to hear him spout details either way. He can be as annoying as Mika when it comes to anything sexual."

"Do you know it’s nearly impossible for him to shut up during," Richie bites his lip as he realizes he can’t have this conversation with Jo. "Ahem, during."

"Aww, you really do suck at talking about sex. That’s okay, I’m more than happy to make up for the lack of such talk on your end."

"Wha-" Richie notices Stan and Ben on the opposite side of the hotel’s restaurant. More specifically, their fingers entwined underneath the table. All kidding aside about Ben’s lack of subtlety, it isn’t purely sexual with these two. Somehow, seeing them in this rather secretive moment is more meaningful than the locker room embrace... or Stan fumbling around to explain that they’re not merely fooling around. He stares down at his airline ticket, needing something else to focus on.

After what is likely several minutes of silence, Jo asks, "I know this is going to sound trite but are you okay? I mean, beyond losing to Stan okay?" Richie fiddles with the edge of his airline ticket but uses a finger to try to casually gesture where he’d been looking before. Jo looks over his shoulder and sees the problem. "Oh. Okay. That makes more sense."

"Mind if I go back to my room after you’re done? I’d rather… not do this right now."

"Only if you promise to watch me beat Roger. If you want to come over to help me celebrate afterwards, my door will be open."  
"Rather confident you’re gonna win?"

"How about if I don’t win, we’ll get drunk and depressed together?"

"That works too."

* * * * *

_US Open_

_Wednesday, September 4_

_Quarterfinals_

Richie sets up the laptop on the bench in the locker room. He realizes it’s a bit dangerous chatting with Jo here but he needs to hear a different voice right now. He is supposed to be focusing on the game plan for playing Ferrer but it’s all muddled .

Jo must realize that Richie doesn’t want to hear match talk because he starts with, "Ben is such a pain."

"Huh?"

"He is trying to convince me to go to the beach with him and Edouard tomorrow. I’m kind of not sure why since we don’t usually hang out."

"I _told_ you that Stan is still spying. Ben is on the loose in France and wanting to help his boyfriend from afar…"

Jo reminds Richie, "Ben doesn’t actually know about us, just the crush. You’re right in that I could see Ben doing that if Stan is that curious about you. I actually have a meeting with the physical therapist, in which I’m hoping I’ll be cleared to return onto the court, so there’s no reason to even join them."

"That is a very very good reason to turn Ben down. Good luck with that."

"Even though I would love to spend time at the beach with you, I’d rather not see you for a few more days. Time to focus on the mission in front of you."

Richie chuckles at that, then says softly, "Thank you for the distraction."

"You’re quite welcome. I could sense from here you’d need that."

* * * * *

_French Open_

_Tuesday, June 4_

_Quarterfinals_

"Safe to say that drinking is off the table?" Richie says when Jo opens the door. He’s doing his best to be happy for Jo and is rather surprised that there’s nobody else in the room.

Jo smiles brightly, then steps aside to let Richie in. "Yeah. It’s a pretty good day. Semifinals of our home event. The crowd will be insane!"

"I bring the wine anyway, as you will need it once this tournament is over, regardless. Celebratory drunkenness is so much better." Richie holds the bag up then sets it down on the table. "From what I heard from the commentators, schedulers may make Novak and Rafa your warm-up act. They can knock each other out while you wait for David."

"They still have a match to go. Haas and Wawrinka won’t make it easy for them."

Richie thinks back to what Stan said to him after their match: _"do you think we can catch the scorekeepers and convince them that I actually retired from the match before match point and that you’re Rafa’s next sacrificial lamb?"_ He wouldn’t tell Jo just how fruitless an argument it is. "Ferrer is tough anyway."

"Well, he’s good at kicking _your_ ass," Jo teases, then glances toward Richie flipping through the football magazine on the table. "Found out from the gossips that Stan intends to ask Ben to be at his match against Rafa."

Both eyebrows rise up at that news but Richie otherwise focuses on the magazine. "Really? Stan told me he didn’t want Ben around for our match because it’d make him nervous. I guess he figures he doesn’t really have a chance to win this one." He frowns at that, then shrugs and resumes reading. "It’s Rafa so, unfortunately, understandable."

Jo lets out a deep breath, then says carefully, "The one year you’re not playing Queens. At least if you were in England, I could convince you to stay here for the semifinal. Will have to settle for Mika and Nico."

"That’s still not a bad rooting section. Seb isn’t joining us for a few days so he and Arnaud may be around."

"Richie," Jo says as a sigh, then Richie looks up in time to catch him just finish shaking his head. "When my run is over, whether in a loss or holding the trophy, I want you to set up your laptop so we can get drunk together, as promised."

Richie locks in on Jo’s gaze and, for once, he’s noticing what others have known. Given the circumstances, this is the wrong time to make use of his newfound observation. "I promise." He looks down, nodding hurriedly. "I should be packing. Early flight tomorrow. Congratulations."

* * * * *

_US Open_

_Friday, September 6_

_Day before Semifinals_

Jo lounges back on his bed, laptop next to him, as he watches Richie settle in at a table while drying his hair with a towel. "I realize we haven’t had time to talk but I’m thankful you’re still there."

Richie gives a shy smile and nods, then notices Stan out of the corner of his eye, seeming to report to the boyfriend if the rolling of eyes and similar smile are any indication. He’s still reasonably sure that Stan is still spying and wishes he knew what their plan was. He’d lay money on Stan thinking he’s selling pictures of them to the tabloids - which is only funny in that there are enough pics of Stan and Ben together that _they post themselves_.

Jo catches on that Richie is distracted and murmurs, "Spy time?"

"Yeah."

"Ben texted me to ask if it’d be a good idea to arrange for Stan’s locker to be filled with rose petals," Jo says. "I didn’t really want to know why he’d ask me but I immediately deleted it. Then he sent a similar message to Nico. Unlike me, Nico decided to _call_ to tell him that was dumb and got bombarded with questions about your current state of mind."

Richie blinks. "Repeat that."

Jo holds up his phone, displaying Ben’s original message which stated exactly what Richie thought he said. "Yeah, Nico called me to ask if it was _my fault_ Ben thinks something’s wrong with you. I don’t remember telling Nico we’re even together so I presume his basis is in believing Mika’s weird doubles psychic thing is valid."

"Stan is here in the locker room. The games end now."

"Please don’t disconnect. I want to hear this."

"Keep your fantasies about him to yourself," Richie not able to get through the sentence without wanting to laugh at the absurdity.

"No promises," Jo finding it equally difficult to stay serious.

Richie stands up to approach Stan, picking up the laptop in the process. He braces himself for whatever weird thought Benoit Paire has put into Stan’s head, maybe even partially realizing he might be telling someone about Jo for the first time.

Stan is deep in conversation and doesn’t initially notice. Once he does, Stan immediately cuts off what was likely Ben’s investigation and can barely fumble out a hello.

"So, do you want to tell me why your boyfriend is calling all our friends asking what’s wrong with me?" Richie asks a now-flushed Stan. If he’d been _guessing_ before about Stan spying using Ben, now Richie was certain. He wants to get to the bottom of this.

Even so, it makes him wary in knowing that Jo is hearing every word of this "showdown" – and knowing this could be significant.

* * * * *

_French Open_

_Friday, June 7_

_Semifinals_

"Making good use of the wine?" Richie says as a greeting when Jo finally signs on. It’s actually a pointless thing to say, as Jo appears to have had a half-bottle head start. It’s also past midnight and the match had ended hours ago so Richie had been asleep for some time in a bed in a random Halle hotel. He’s comfortably under his own blanket as he’s dealing with the laptop.

"You sound groggy, not drunk."

Richie leans over to the nightstand and pours a clear plastic cup with barely a sip of wine, then holds it up. "Sorry, this is the best I can do," then drinks the contents.

Jo holds up the bottle, then tilts back his head to take a good swig. "This way is better. However, I did get you in bed so it works out okay for me. Just a shame you’re in Germany and I’m not when it happened."

"If it makes you feel better, I _do_ wish I’d been there," his voice faltering as his gaze lingers on Jo’s reddened mouth.

Jo stays silent for too long. Richie begins to wonder if it’s a connection issue and starts fiddling with settings when Jo finally says, "The last time I got drunk, I told Ben something. I have no idea why I told Ben but I may pay for the error."

"Don’t tell me you told him about your crush on Stan."

"Even in an inebriated state, I wouldn’t have been that dumb. Ben would’ve responded by extoling Stan’s best qualities… and I’m reasonably sure he and Stan weren’t together at that point because he was complaining about being not getting laid. Though I think Stan could’ve been playing a different event so Ben _could’ve_ been grumpy about not having sex for a week for all I know."

Jo trails off, leaning back on the couch with his eyes to the ceiling. The events of the day are starting to hit him and Richie really does wish he could hug him right now. Richie keeps his voice soft as he asks, "If I’d been there, you wouldn’t have been as nervous?"

"I might have been nervous but it wouldn’t have been about the match so much as… later. Maybe focusing elsewhere would’ve helped."

"What would have happened later?"

Jo snaps, "Please tell me you’re teasing and not actually this blind, Richard."

"You mean that you want me to be the one you can turn to after a bad loss? That I wanted you to kiss everything better that night in the hotel room? Yeah, I guess I am that blind to have only just realized how badly you’ve wanted me." Richie snuggles under the covers, satisfied at having gotten Jo to perk out of his mood even if only momentarily.

Jo glares back, then mutters, "You are _definitely_ a fucking tease."

* * * * *

_US Open_

_Saturday, September 7_

_Semifinals_

"Still proud of you," Jo says to a bleary-eyed Richie. There was a text message earlier stating the exact same words – Richie had seen it and smiled – but hadn’t figured how to reply in the moment.

That said, it’s hardly fair that Jo looks fresh for about eight in the morning over in France while Richie has had about two hours sleep. "Good to hear."

Jo realizes that Richie isn’t in mourning over the loss so much as mourning over interrupted sleep and is apologetic. "You were still logged on. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have awakened you."

That softens Richie’s tone, who replies with a drained, "Sorry." He knows exactly why he had the connection on, in hopes for just this conversation. Doesn’t mean he still couldn’t be cranky about waking up in near darkness.

"Thank Stan for killing any fantasy I ever had. Seeing you two hug it out was just awkward. If was as if he’d beaten you at Roland Garros all over again."

Richie snorts at the image Jo must have. "You’re welcome because I was sick of hearing about Stan. Can I call you later? Too tired for this conversation."

"Sure. You’ve earned it."

Richie goes back under the covers, his fingers lingering on the laptop monitor as if wishing he could touch Jo’s cheek right now. "Good night. Miss you."

Jo intends to say goodbye but remembers just in time about a previous conversation when he’d lost the match to get to a Grand Slam final. "Miss you, too. You’ll be home soon."


End file.
